


But I Love You

by ellerean



Category: Free!
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerean/pseuds/ellerean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's different this time, when Haru invites Rin to his house. It's only them, seated around the table, sharing awkward glances and pounding hearts. What in the world does Haru want this time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel of sorts to [Don't Tell Me You Love Him](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1119464/chapters/2255292), though they can be read independently of each other. You don't have to know anything about the other one to read this.
> 
> Also, this somehow stemmed from the s2e1 scene where Haru tells Rin to come to Iwatobi. Don't ask; I have no idea.

It wasn’t like Rin hadn’t been to his house before. He was just there two days prior, actually, hanging out with the Iwatobi Swim Club. Haru’s place was like their clubhouse. Even if Haru wasn’t there, and the door was locked, Rin wouldn’t have been surprised to find someone hanging out in his living room.

But today, it was only him. “Come to my house after practice,” Haru had said in his voicemail, which was strange in itself. Rin was starting to believe that Haru didn’t know how to use a phone.

Haru seemed normal enough when he answered the door. Normal, for Haru. “Hey,” he said, stepping aside to let Rin in, waiting until he kicked off his shoes. It didn’t look like he’d been doing anything, either; the table in the living room was empty, save for a half-empty glass of water. When Haru sat down, Rin took it as an invitation to sit as well.

“What’s up?” he asked, watching Haru wrap his hands around the glass.

Haru looked less normal then, and almost . . . nervous. He avoided Rin’s stare, not even looking at his water, but at a spot over Rin’s shoulder. The staircase? The bathroom?

The tatami creaked slightly as Haru fidgeted. The longer he remained silent, the more Rin’s chest twisted into itself. He imagined the worst: Someone died; he couldn’t swim anymore; he didn’t want to be friends . . .

“Rin.” It came out hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “Rin. Are you gay?”

. . . No, _that_ was the worst.

Rin knew he was overreacting the moment his body kicked into defense mode. He threw his arms up and knocked the table in the process, nearly upsetting the glass of water Haru gripped so firmly. “What the hell, Haru? You don’t just _ask_ someone that!”

Haru’s gaze was unyielding. _Damn it_ , he was waiting for an answer. Rin huffed and rolled his eyes, balling the hem of his jacket in a fist. “Why? Are _you_?”

Haru replied too quickly. “I asked first.”

Rin grabbed the glass from Haru’s hand, ignoring his whimper of protest. His throat was suddenly dry and raw, the water doing little to alleviate it. Already, sweat pooled in the dips of his collarbone. This was just like Haru—saying stupid things and expecting him to _answer_ , like they weren’t embarrassingly invasive questions. Like it wasn’t something Rin hadn’t been anxious about since he was ten years old.

“Yes, Haru.” Rin sighed in defeat. “But, shit . . . I’m not out. Don’t go telling everyone.”

Haru narrowed his eyes and snatched his empty glass back. Rin’s chest pounded when Haru stood—obviously he’d already said something wrong—but he only turned toward the kitchen. “I wouldn’t do that!” he called over his shoulder.

“I don’t know _what_ you’d do!” He listened to the _woosh_ of the faucet, the clink of glasses. Haru returned with two and slammed one in front of Rin, drops of water splashing over the edge. “Thanks,” he muttered, averting his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Why do you care, anyway?”

Haru scowled. “Idiot.”

Rin clenched his teeth, preparing a backlash, but Haru was back to _not_ looking at him, and they’d already avoided each other’s eyes way too much in a single conversation. That wasn’t anything new for Haru, but Rin had trouble maintaining eye contact, too. _Rin_. He took a long swig of water. It still didn’t do anything.

Haru at least had the decency to wait until Rin swallowed, setting down the glass, before he spoke again. “Because I like you.”

The blood rushed from Rin’s head. Thank God he was already sitting, because he could feel the jelly-like consistency of his legs, the uselessness of his arms. He needed more water. He couldn’t speak, only stared.

Haru was watching him now. And he was so hard to read—he could’ve been saying anything at all; he could’ve admitted to liking _mackerel_ for all his face betrayed. When Rin’s heart finally stopped trying to escape from his chest, he thought maybe he could speak.

But Haru went on. “I was going to tell you after graduation. But that was stupid.”

“So, what?” Rin asked, his voice hoarser than intended. “You wanna go out?”

Again, Haru wasn’t looking at him. Again, he was staring at the wall, acting like Rin hadn’t said anything. He’d obviously heard him—there’d been a slight twitch of his jaw when Rin spoke, but his face remained otherwise impassive.

 _Could I really date someone who pisses me off so much?_ Rin visually traced Haru’s face, from his wide eyes down to the curve of his jaw. He started to sweat again when he considered he might be allowed to kiss that jaw. His eyes flickered. Or those lips.

 _Could I really date_ Haru _?_

“If you want,” Haru replied.

 

They hadn’t resolved anything. It seemed like Haru had expected it, simply allowing him to return to school without answering the question. Not like Rin had asked him out; it had just been a curiosity. A disbelief.

He didn’t feel like dealing with the guys in the dorm, so Rin wandered campus a while.

It had been too much at once. He hadn’t expected _Haru_ to be the first to know, but at the same time he wasn’t surprised. It was just like him. As Rin strode past the natatorium, he realized Haru had never confirmed his own preference. Well, it was _obvious_ , since Haru admitted to liking him ( _Haru likes_ me _?)_ , but he’d never expressed any romantic interest either way before. It was stranger to consider not his interest in Rin, but that it was Rin who’d brought these bubbling feelings to the surface. Maybe for the first time.

When he returned to the dorm, it was all he could think of—passing guys in the hallway. Catching them in towels as they left the communal shower. Sleeping in the same room as a guy, all of them unaware that Rin could like any of _them_ , as they gossiped over cute girls they rarely saw.

“Rin-senpai!” Nitori greeted him at once, sitting bolt upright in his desk chair.

“Yo.”

He crashed to his bed, not wanting to look at Nitori at all, not wanting to look at anyone.

Taped to his wall was the team photo from nationals, with Rin wedged in the midst of the Iwatobi Swim Club. He stared at Haru’s face. _He likes me_ , Rin thought, trying to find some outward sign. But he was looking toward Makoto, seemingly annoyed over the persistent arm around his shoulders.

 _He could act like it_ , Rin thought, closing his eyes.

_Do I want him to act like it?_

When it was time for lights out, Rin slept on the edge of the bed. He lay on his side and closed his eyes, wondering how it would feel if Haru slept beside him. It wasn’t _too_ weird, as they’d shared a bed as kids, but they’d been kids. He tried to block out the sound of Nitori’s breathing, envisioning Haru’s instead. But Haru was too quiet—would he even hear him in bed? Did he snore? Was he a cuddler?

His cheeks flushed. Rin hugged his pillow, which was too plush to mimic a human body. He spread a hand across his abs, wondering if Haru would like the way they felt. If he admired them. Already he was breathing harder, pretending that hand was Haru’s, imagining his warm body pressed to his back.

 _Shit_. He squeezed his eyes shut as he slid that hand around to his back, down around his ass. _My ass is pretty hot_ , he though, lightly squeezing it. _Haru’s is nicer, though_.

_I’ve stared at Haru’s ass._

He looked up to the underside of Nitori’s bed. Rin prayed he was asleep as he played at the elastic of his pants, struggling against the tautness of the band. Without a second thought, he untied the knot to loosen the waist, breathing a contented sigh when he could slide a hand down the back.

Well, it didn’t matter if it were Haru or not. At some point Rin would date _someone_ , and they’d want to have sex, right? He felt the smooth skin of his ass, considering how someone else wanted to touch it. Wanted to be inside. He bit down on his lower lip as his fingers crept toward his hole, muffling a whimper in his pillow. _Just do it, Rin_. It became easier when that hand was Haru’s again, when he stopped thinking about the fact he was about to finger himself like the fucking gay he was.

Rin pressed his face into the pillow, nearly suffocating himself to muffle the sound from his sleeping roommate, as he pushed inside.

It was a fucking _bad_ idea, with no lube, and holy shit, it _hurt_. He tried to relax but his muscles refused, hating what he did to himself.

 _Haru_.

Thinking of that face and that beautifully lean body didn’t make it easier. He _wanted_ it to be Haru. He wanted Haru’s hands on him, within him. He blocked out anything more; that one finger alone was enough to send him into convulsions.

He exhaled loudly when he pulled out, breathing hard despite the lack of full penetration and he hadn’t even _moved_ that damn finger.

He punched the pillow, trying to ignore the scent on his hand as he tried to sleep.

 

He didn’t see Haru for another week. Not that Rin was avoiding him—he was busy. He had exams. And swim practice. And he had to visit his mother, who was complaining again that he never visited. And he’d never really hung out with Nitori, so he though it would be nice if they ate in the cafeteria together or something.

. . . But not avoiding Haru, not at all.

He stopped by the house unannounced. He should’ve called first, and felt slightly guilty when Makoto answered the door. He looked mildly surprised to see Rin there.

“I was just going home!” Makoto said, even though he didn’t have his shoes on.

Haru was sitting at the table, like he hadn’t moved at all since Rin last saw him a week prior. He listened to Makoto close the front door and watched Haru watching him, each failing to read the other’s indifferent expression.

Rin was still standing in the hallway when he said, “I’m scared, Haru.”

Haru blinked at him. “Of what?”

Finally, he entered the room. He sat at the table, closer to Haru than the last time. He wished he had a glass of water, or _anything_ , to fidget with. He crossed his arms instead. “I don’t wanna fuck things up.”

The slight downward tilt of Haru’s head could hardly be considered a nod.

“And . . .”

Haru’s head tilted back up.

“Tch.” Rin pushed his fringe back. He almost liked the way Haru stared at his head, like his forehead was some natural wonder.

“Is this about sex?” Haru deadpanned.

“I-It— it’s not . . . !”

“Rin.”

He blanched when Haru took his hand. It was ironic, how he instinctively wanted to yank it away. After all the times _he’d_ hung over _Haru_ , it was _this_ that was weird. His hand on the table, concealed by Haru’s. That gentle touch, and the warm feel of his skin. He hadn’t realized how _cold_ his hand was until it was suddenly so _warm_ . . .

 

He hadn’t meant to run out of the house. He still heard Haru shouting after him, his heart still pounding just to _hear_ Haru speak his name so passionately. He’d almost tripped down the stairs and refused to even look at Makoto’s house, in case anyone was watching, not that he thought they would. He swallowed back tears, focusing on his pounding footsteps, forever pushing himself to move faster, to get away. He didn’t stop running until Iwatobi Station was in sight, cursing himself because now he had to wait twenty minutes for the next train. Rin collapsed onto a bench, blissfully alone.

He stared at his hand—studying the back, flipping over to the palm, curling his fingers as if testing their dexterity. It didn’t look any different, and it responded like normal to his commands. Maybe it shook a little from the sudden sprint. Or maybe it shook because it was still warm, like Haru’s hand was still concealing it. Like Haru was still there, sharing his bodily warmth.

How many times could he run away before Haru didn’t like him anymore?

A young couple stepped onto the platform. A _normal_ couple. One that could unashamedly hold hands as they waited for the train. One that any parent would be proud of ( _What would Ma think?_ ), and no one argued its validity. Rin lowered his head, running both hands through his hair to tug at the roots.

 _What if I wanna be a father?_ He violently shook his head, his hair falling out of place and shielding his pained expression.

He automatically looked in the direction of Haru’s house as the train wheezed into the station. Stepping onto this train meant he’d be returning to school, failing himself yet again, but he was more disappointed that Haru hadn’t run after him.

As he settled into a seat, watching Iwatobi pass as they began to move, Rin wished that he had.

When his phone buzzed in his pants pocket he nearly leaped out of his skin, but it was only his roommate. Wondering where he went. _I’ll be back for practice_ , he replied, sighing heavily as he slumped. He stared at the phone, at Haru’s name in his contacts, then gritted his teeth and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

 

* * *

 

Rin was acting weird.

Rin _always_ acted weird, so Haru wasn’t too surprised. He stood in his doorway, long after Rin had disappeared down the street. He’d seen him stumble down the stairs but he hadn’t fallen, and Haru was grateful for all the wrong reasons—yes, he was glad Rin was unhurt, but more glad that he didn’t have to take care of him when he was probably already embarrassed.

Haru stepped onto the front porch in his house slippers. He thought he could still hear the sound of Rin’s footsteps, running away from him. He couldn’t, of course; he was probably at the train station by now. If he strained his ears, he could hear the whistle of the train as it approached the station. He closed his eyes, picturing the way Rin stepped through the doors and back to Samezuka. Away from him.

He turned back into the house.

“Should’ve waited for graduation,” he mumbled, changing into his sneakers.

 

No one was at the high school pool at this hour. Not that anyone used it, besides the swim club, and they were all home and probably eating dinner with their families. Haru stripped down to his swimsuit and dived in, a soundless, flawless dive. He didn’t want to come up. He wouldn’t preferred staying beneath the water, but it wasn’t long before his lungs burned in protest. He gasped as he broke water, whipping his hair from his face before lying back to float.

The sky was clear; the water wasn’t too cold. And the grounds were quiet—the last of the after-school activities had let out hours prior, and no one in their right mind would hang around the high school longer than necessary.

But still, Haru couldn’t relax.

“Rin should be here,” he muttered, before sinking underwater again.

 _Not because I like him_ , he thought, still surprised by the thought alone. _But I like Rin._ Like how other boys liked girls, or how Gou liked muscles. He _liked_ Rin; he wanted to spend time with him, to cook for him, to go on dates to the ocean. He wanted to buy him embarrassing gifts for his birthday. Or for Christmas. Or just because.

Haru came up for air again and looked around, making sure he was still alone.

He wanted to hold Rin’s hand. It had felt so cold that afternoon, and he wanted to warm it.

He wanted to kiss Rin’s lips, feel them curl into a smile.

He wanted Rin to sleep beside him, to . . .

“How annoying.”

Haru looked down at his swimsuit, hazy beneath the water, at his hands touching the skin above the band. He wasn’t _obviously_ hard, but still the blood pulsed in his groin. _Stop thinking about it_ , he thought, closing his eyes again, willing the water to cool him down.

But when he closed his eyes, he could only see Rin’s face.

It was a pretty face. The first time he decided Rin was attractive, he’d quickly gotten over the initial shock of realization. Because he _was_. Rin’s smile had always unsettled him; it was too bright, too glowing. And when he strode around in his swimsuit, more and more Haru caught himself admiring his body, wondering how he maintained such a perfect physique.

It wasn’t mere physical attraction, but the physical aspect didn’t hurt.

“Oi, Haru.”

He froze. Haru slowly opened his eyes, willing his body not to tremble, lest it be too obvious in the water. He hadn’t heard Rin come in. He was standing at poolside in his legskins, his school uniform neatly folded on a bench. Haru wondered how long he’d been watching, and was glad he’d worn one of his nicer pairs of jammers—and that his near-erection had subsided.

He stood up in the pool, shivering from the sudden cold. “I thought you left.”

“I did. Got about halfway there, and . . .” Rin shrugged. “How ’bout I join you?”

Rin didn’t want to race. He floated idly after he jumped in but not too close, keeping his distance. For once.

“Haru, I— I like you, too.”

Haru dipped down to his neck. And then his chin, covering his mouth, leaving just enough space between air and water to breathe through his nose. He could see Rin’s body beneath the watery surface, watched his feet lightly kick to keep him afloat. Haru wondered how he’d look like in jammers.

“I’m fucking scared, Haru. This is”—he aimlessly waved a hand between them—“and them . . .” He motioned to the outside world, to Iwatobi and beyond. “It’ll change everything.”

Haru drifted closer. Rin didn’t back away, which was a good sign, but he still looked nervous, _terrified_. He stayed an arm’s-length away as he lifted his head from the water, just enough to speak. “It already changed,” he said. “We know we like each other.”

He was pushing it. But if Haru had learned anything about Rin, it was he needed to be pushed. He needed things spelled out for him; he was never able to read Haru’s silent commands. It was why he _told_ him to come to his house. Why he’d so blatantly _admitted_ to liking him in the first place, despite how embarrassing it had been.

Rin turned away, sighing so heavily that the water rippled around him. “Yeah.”

“Think about it.” Haru pulled himself from the pool, surprised that his arms didn’t give out under him. He didn’t feel as strong as the image he exuded, casually towel-drying his hair with his back to Rin. He heard a faint splash, then recognized the sound of Rin’s front crawl. He draped the towel around his shoulders and turned to watch. Haru tilted his head, watching Rin swim back and forth. It wasn’t a fast crawl—not by Rin’s standards—but maybe he needed the release, needed to swim to think. Needed the exertion to clear his mind.

When Rin stopped he stood in the pool, staring straight at Haru. His pale skin seemed to glow in the waning sunlight. “Okay,” he said.

A chill went up Haru’s spine. “Okay _what_?”

Rin climbed out using the ladder and Haru could _see_ the way his calves trembled as he walked, the nerves he tried to contain. “I wanna go out with you.”

But then, he broke into that smile. Not the one he flashed in competition or teasing him in front of others, but the one Haru had only seen when Rin’s soul was bared. How his eyes softened, how his lips curled up slightly in _true_ happiness, even if he was a little afraid. He threw a soaking-wet arm around Haru’s shoulders, soaking his towel and dripping water down Haru’s back. But rather than properly hug him, like he’d expected, Rin stared at the puddled water around their feet.

When Haru’s lips brushed his cheek, Rin’s one-armed embrace stiffened. It could hardly be considered a kiss, just a soft flutter on his wet skin. He hoped Rin could feel the way he smiled, even if he didn’t look up to see it. “Okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should've _known_ this thing would end up being three chapters. But hey, what can you do.

Having a boyfriend was kind of cool. Not that anyone at school knew it was a _boy_ friend, but they quickly picked up on the fact Rin was seeing someone. His smile was more vibrant; fellow students caught him texting when he shouldn’t during class.

Haru rarely _replied_ to those texts, but Rin still knew that he saw them.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” the guys on the team would tease, elbowing Rin in the locker room.

“Like I’m telling you!”

He didn’t care that Makoto knew. At least Haru had to decency to tell _only_ Makoto, and he kept all Haru’s secrets under lock and key. Rin heard from Makoto more now, too: Inviting him to Iwatobi’s swim practice, even if he couldn’t make it; telling him how happy Haru looked. Rin pretended to find the up-to-the-minute updates annoying, but it was nice. It was like Rin was there with them, instead of feeling like he was halfway across Japan.

Truthfully, they didn’t see each other often. There was a certain pride about dating someone who required a train ride to visit. _Long-distance_. Many of the Samezuka boys dated girls from the sister academy, but Rin was different. Rin was seeing someone from _Iwatobi_ , which actually required effort.

Haru began to send him letters. _Letters_ , like they were living in the pre-computer age. But Rin was giddy over them. He overlooked the weird mackerel illustrations on the front of his note cards (“Where the hell does he find these things?”) and focused instead on the few lines he jotted inside, even though they rarely said much: He was looking forward to joint practice. He took the Tachibana twins to the beach. He passed his English exam.

Well, it was better than nothing, and more than he knew of Haru’s life before.

Before they were dating.

Nitroi wanted to know. He told Rin that if he ever wanted to have _company_ , he could stay in someone else’s room for the night. Girls were strictly forbidden to enter the dorms, so Rin wondered if he was prodding. He’d roll his eyes at the offer, like it was _obvious_ he couldn’t have company.

Even though, Rin thought, he _could_. That was one plus of being gay.

Truthfully, Rin had only seen Haru twice since they got together. And once was during Iwatobi’s swim practice, so it hardly counted. But . . . it was fine. Rin had gone over for dinner one night, and even though Haru had cooked for him before it was _different_. He’d included some steak with the mackerel, and even seasoned the green beans in a way Rin once said he liked. He remembered now how they sat across from the table from each other—silently eating, sneaking glances between bites, being overly polite as they passed the platters.

It had been a little awkward.

Now, Rin lay on his back, holding one of Haru’s letters. Nitori was still in class, thankfully, so Rin could read the letter for the tenth time over. Haru’s handwriting really was beautiful; it was obvious he was an artist. He traced his name at the top— _Rin_ —wondering how long Haru took on that character alone, fascinated by each seemingly random stroke that molded together to create his identity.

Rin sighed, then cradled the note to his chest.

He _liked_ having a boyfriend—knowing there was someone out there who cared for him, in a different way his mother and sister did. Someone who daydreamed about him, who sat at the desk in his sparsely-decorated room and used his special note cards just for him. He imagined Haru chewing the end of his pen (did he even do that?), wondering what to write, wishing Rin were there instead.

 

But Rin was a shitty boyfriend.

He tried calling Haru a couple times, just to say hi. He sat in the dorm’s stairwell, keeping his voice down because it echoed too loudly over the concrete walls. "What's up?" he asked, but Haru didn't have a lot to say. Rin talked about himself instead, sharing with Haru what he learned in class or improvements to his workout routine. Haru contributed more to the conversation when he switched to swimming, but in the end Rin made up some excuse to hang up. Haru must think he did nothing but homework and essays at night.

On the floor below someone else was sitting on the stairs, talking to his girlfriend on the phone. His whispers echoed too loudly. Rin sighed, leaning his head against the wall. He pictured Haru sitting at his table, staring at the phone like it was some oddity. Maybe he'd get up for a glass of water, or to take a bath.

Before Rin even stood up, he texted, _miss you_.

Haru never replied, but maybe he was already in the bath.

 

The first time they kissed was in the pool. The first official date had gone well; at least they'd mutually admitted to feeling weird in the fancy restaurant, wearing button-down shirts and ties.

"You always wear a tie," Rin pointed out, as they undressed by the pool, both wearing swimsuits under their dress clothes.

"Not willingly," Haru replied.

The pool was natural; it was common ground. They swam a few laps, not really a race, which was different in itself. It felt good to swim with Haru. It was how their friendship had started, and it was their foundation for all that had followed.

Haru met him in the pool’s center and carefully held Rin's hips, like he didn't know how to embrace someone. Rin knew the kiss was coming, because where else would Haru want his first kiss? And Rin wanted him to be happy, and for the kiss to be memorable.

Oh, it was.

Rin had wrapped his arms around Haru before but it felt different now, gently holding his shoulders. Haru, too, finally held him properly. They kissed, and they continued to kiss. Rin took deep breaths through his nose, feeling the warmth of Haru's breath, too. Haru's lips were soft and chlorinated, and his tongue tasted of white rice and salmon. Rin thought Haru would always taste like fish, and he was surprisingly okay with that.

Rin walked him home, and Haru invited him to stay, but he couldn't. He had a legitimate excuse this time, not something made up on the fly. But even as Rin kissed him goodnight and headed for the train station, he knew he could've just left early and made his study group on time.

"Oh, Rin!"

Makoto was at his front door, like he'd waited for Rin to descend.

"Hey," Rin replied.

Makoto looked in the direction of Haru's house, like he could see him shuffling through the house. "How was the date?"

It was something he should've been asking Haru first—he was probably on his way up—but Rin liked that he asked. Like he was best friend to them both, and not Haru's confidant alone.

"It was nice," he replied honestly. The imprint of Haru’s hands still on his hips, the taste of his mouth . . . "First dates are always a little awkward, eh?"

Makoto smiled, as if he understood. "When I start dating, I'm coming to you for advice."

Rin forced a laugh. "I doubt what works for Haru will work for anyone else."

But he _did_ know Haru, didn’t he? Rin knew enough to suggest a seafood restaurant, and he’d worn a swimsuit under his clothes—just in case. He didn’t understand all of Haru’s mannerisms yet, but Rin hadn’t completely opened up to him, either.

When he returned to his room, Nitori asked how the date went. Rin didn’t reveal much. His roommate knew just as much about his love life as the rest of the team—that is, very little—and still, Rin was careful never to explicitly mention a gender. As if that wasn’t stupidly obvious.

“Really nice,” he answered, hoping the new chlorine scent wasn’t too obvious as he changed into his sleepwear. “I really . . . we had a good time.”

 _I really like him_ , he wanted to say, but chucked his damp shirt in the laundry basket instead.

He _did_ like Haru. He liked him a lot, and Rin thought he always had. He bought a frame for the team photo he’d taped to his wall, displaying it on his desk instead. It was the best he could do without outwardly displaying a photo of just them, but it was suitable. It was . . . them.

He started to write letters back. Not that Haru gave him much to work with, but it was easier than trying to pry words out of him over the phone. He was conscious of how much longer his own letters were, but Haru probably didn't mind. Maybe it meant Haru's replies would be longer, too, and would give Rin further insight into his life.

For as much as he knew Haru, and as much the concept of dating someone was fun, they didn't know a whole lot about each other. Well, that was mostly Rin's fault; he’d shut everyone out for most of their time as friends. And Haru was... Haru.

 

> _Haru,_
> 
> _Bet you haven’t seen this stationery in a while, huh? Mom bought me this giant box of it when I went abroad, even though I only wrote to her and you. Ha! Guess you get to know all my secrets now._
> 
> _Classes have been crazy. Teachers always schedule all the major tests at the same time. I think they do it on purpose. How much do you know about Japanese literature? That test was . . . well, I won’t be telling Ma about that one. I wouldn’t mind a tutor ;)_
> 
> _Mikoshiba said we have joint practice next week. FINALLY. I can probably get the pool for us after, if you can stay._
> 
> _See you soon xx_
> 
> _Lo_

He scribbled out that term of endearment, ensuring the ultimate sign of devotion wasn’t obvious beneath the heavy mass of black ink. _Does it matter?_ he thought, staring at the scribble. If they were still only friends, he’d have no trouble using “love.” But that was different. Everything was different.

He pursed his lips, then decided to keep it simple.

> _Rin_

“Rin-senpai!”

He crumpled the paper in his folded arm in his attempt to hide it. Rin winced, trying to smooth out the letter without his roommate seeing its recipient. As if his “love letter” gave anything away. It was anything _but_ romantic, Rin realized now.

Nitori curiously raised his eyebrows, but didn’t ask. “Are you ready for practice?”

 

* * *

 

One of the other guys on the team had a new girlfriend, so Rin’s relationship was old news. He could focus on _swimming_ again, rather than the mentally-draining task of dodging questions about his lovely lady.

He snorted. _Lovely lady._

Rin had never joined in on the team’s teasings, mainly because he didn’t care. But as he folded his clothes into a locker, a ripple went through the locker room about Nagasori’s new girlfriend.

“Is she cute?”

“Are you getting any yet?”

Rin clenched his teeth and tried to drown them out. What did it _matter_? They all laughed when Nagasori stumbled over an answer, wanting to neither confirm nor deny his bedroom habits. He was too easy to fluster.

“The girl’s just a front,” someone said. “Turn around, guys! Nagasori’s checkin’ out your junk.”

“G-guys,” Nitori stammered, once the laughter died down. “Don’t say things like that.”

Rin tried his hardest not to slam his locker closed, but they wouldn’t have noticed the commotion anyway—Nitori was the focus of their teasing now, and he was clearly uncomfortable with the elbow jabs and hair-ruffling.

“Let’s go swim,” Rin said, grabbing Nitori’s arm in passing.

He didn’t want to consider that maybe Nitori _knew_. The kid wasn’t an idiot; he’d heard nothing but Haru’s name since they’d started roomming together.

“Thanks, senpai,” he whispered, once they were out on the pool deck.

“Yeah, well . . .” Rin rubbed the back of his neck. “You too.”

“Eh?”

But Rin had already tossed his towel aside, diving into the pool to get a lap in before the others arrived.

Once he heard it, it was all he heard. It had been easy to ignore before, when he didn’t care about the team. Back when he was a selfish bastard. But he _had_ to talk to them; he had to coordinate with his relay team. He was viewed as stubborn, someone who didn’t know how to have a good time. All work, no play. _Fine_ , he thought, snapping his goggles strap. He _was_ a faggot, as they called each other. He _had_ glanced at them in the locker room, comparing their muscles to his own. No, he _hadn’t_ gotten any, because he was fucking queer. Even though _Haru_ was okay with the idea, there was still a small part of Rin that refused to believe it.

“I’m going home tonight,” he told Nitori between laps.

“Is everything okay?! You have an early class! Are you sure you should—”

“It’s _fine_ ,” he interrupted. “I’ll be back before then.”

He didn’t need the night off. All he needed was maybe an hour—enough time to get to Iwatobi and back—but maybe he’d spend the night at his mother’s, anyway. Or he’d crash on Makoto’s floor. Maybe Nagisa wouldn’t mind . . .

No, he’d definitely go home.

Rin didn’t bother with an overnight bag. He’d just wear the same uniform in the morning; it had been recently washed, anyway. Anything he didn’t have, he’d borrow from Gou. What did it matter? He was fucking gay; who cared if he smelled like cucumbers, or whatever the hell fragrance she was using these days? At least they’d _know_ , when he got back to school. Let them _smell_ the queer on him.

He could still turn back. The train thumped over the rails, or maybe the thumping was internal. Maybe Rin’s heart wanted to escape, ashamed of what he was and what he was about to do. He swallowed the rock in his throat, forcing the tears down until after he reached home, his safety. He was grateful when he disembarked the train, not because he’d reached his destination but because it meant he could _run_ , pushing his body harder than he should’ve after a long practice.

 _Maybe Haru won’t be home._ He ran up the stairs, feeling the blood through his veins. _If he doesn’t answer, I’ll just go back. Then I wasn’t meant to—_

“Rin?”

Haru was already outside. His hair was wet, and even from so far away Rin could smell the chlorine off him, like he’d just come from the pool. Rin tried to steady himself, hands on his knees, taking shallow breaths. His lungs refused to fill with the air he needed.

Haru stepped closer, a little tentative, unsure of what his boyfriend was doing.

 _His. Boyfriend_.

Rin stood up and shook out his hair, forgetting that it wasn’t _his_ that was soaking wet. Forgetting that he and Haru didn’t occupy the same body. Two distinct beings. _Different_. He was finally able to breathe in deep, like Haru’s presence calmed him. He didn’t even have to say anything—the way he was staring at Rin, partially concerned, but mostly curious.

“Haru, I can’t do this.”

Haru had started to extend a hand, but he froze. Haru’s hand, suspended between them, unsure whether he should touch Rin or take it back. “Do what?”

Rin swallowed hard, his chest heaving.

“Rin . . .” He put his hands into his pockets. Giving up. “Do what?”

“I’m sorry, Haru. I . . . I can’t go out with you.”

 

His mother didn’t ask when he got home, sweaty and tear-stained. It was a long run from Haru’s house, not that she knew where he came from, nor did he want to explain. Gou wasn’t home yet, and he was too exhausted to care. If anything, he was grateful to avoid her pestering.

When Rin trudged upstairs to the bathroom he started to fill the tub, but quickly pulled the plug. He’d shower instead. Even the damn bathtub reminded him too much of Haru, but the hot shower wasn’t helping much, either.

He’d left Haru’s house before he could say anything more and change his mind. But Rin couldn’t get that downcast face out of his head, the way Haru’s eyes shone with unshed tears.

And the idiot had to respond, too. Can’t even take a breakup without arguing about it. “Is it because of me, or because I’m a boy?”

Rin hadn’t even answered.

He jerked the handle, staunching the flow of water. If he left the bathroom now, he thought, his mother would think the water on his face was only water. But he stared at the tiled floor, wiggling his toes in the small puddle gathered around the drain. His eyes swept up, staring at his ankles, his calves, his thighs. He lingered at his crotch. _Haru wants this_ , he thought, ignoring his self-engrained taunts of “ _gay_.” He traced his abs with his fingers, squeezed his pecs. He touched his lips, remembering the gentle way Haru kissed them.

He grabbed a towel from the hook. He wasn’t surprised that his mother’s door was open when he stormed from the bathroom, nor when she followed to his room. Rin didn’t have the strength to argue over her badgering while he was naked. He knotted the towel around his waist tighter.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

He pulled on underwear without dropping the towel. An old locker room trick. He turned his back to the door as he rummaged through the sparse closet for a pair of shorts.

“Fine. Felt like coming home.”

“Mmm.”

_“What?”_

He glanced over his shoulder to catch her indifferent shrug, acting like she didn’t care. “I’d just like you in a better mood when you visit your poor old mother.”

He rolled his eyes, balling up the discarded towel to throw it at her. His mother had good reflexes, he had to admit; she didn’t even flinch as she caught it. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

She snorted. “That’s obvious.” But she still stepped into the room—he allowed it—and Rin closed his eyes, feeling the soft way she ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. “Get a good night’s sleep.”

Rin only nodded. He watched her leave, waiting until she closed the door behind her, then buried his face in his hands to cry all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (chapter is [here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/91176846888) on tumblr.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days I'm going to get burned out from updating fics so frequently. *passes out*

Haru didn't check his mail until after Rin left. He didn't really care what was in the mailbox, not when he still felt the soreness of his throat and a sting in his eyes.

_I can't go out with you._

It was a simple concept, but Haru didn't understand. Didn’t they like each other? Hadn't they talked on the phone at night, experienced their first date, had their first kiss in the water?

He tossed the stack of mail on the table, uncaring, but yet . . .

He didn't see Rin's handwriting often, but recognized the envelope right away. Suddenly he was twelve years old again, rolling his eyes at yet another letter from a boy he didn't know he'd grow up to love.

> _Bet you haven’t seen this stationery in a while, huh?_

He didn’t want to read the letter, but it was already in his hands. He’d already started. When had Rin written this? Yesterday? The day before? It felt like a distant memory, words from a lifetime ago.

> _See you soon xx_

Makoto’s mother used to put those Xs on notes she’d tuck into his bento. _Kisses_ , Makoto would explain, a little embarrassed. It didn’t surprise Haru that Rin used them, too. It was more surprising that Rin had just broken up with him.

They didn’t have any pictures of just the two of them. Not yet. ( _Not ever?_ ) When Haru climbed the stairs to his room, he saw the framed team photo on his desk first. _We’re not on the same team, but we’re still teammates_.

Haru shook his head and took a bath.

He didn’t want to tell Makoto. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to “It’s okay!” or “It wasn’t meant to be,” both of which were false. As he sunk into the bath, he thought of the way Rin smiled. Not just when he was teasing Haru, which was often, but when he was genuinely happy. He’d seen that smile a few times over the past month. He’d definitely seen it after they first kissed, as Rin pushed the wet hair from Haru’s forehead.

 _It’s not me_ , Haru thought, holding his breath as he dunked his head.

 

He was getting faster at text messaging. Or, rather, typing the same message. Every day after school. Knowing there may not be a reply.

_Come over?_

Every day.

Rin never replied. He had no idea what Rin was doing—whether he ignored all his messages, or if he sat on his bed brooding, going back and forth over whether he should answer.

Makoto continued to ask how Rin was, and at least it wasn’t out of character to not share much. But he began to do that annoying side-eyed look, like he knew Haru was hiding something. He still didn’t want to talk about it—he was fixing it. There was nothing to talk about.

The messages became routine. Walk home from school with Makoto; drop his schoolbag on the living room floor; message Rin. It felt ridiculous sending the same message every single day, but he hoped Rin found some humor in the message history.

_Fr: Haru_

_Monday, 3:32 p.m. Come over?_

_Tuesday, 3:26 p.m. Come over?_

_Wednesday, 3:35 p.m. Come over?_

 

On Thursday, he replied. _Not today._

Haru gave him a break the next day. He had plans, anyway. It was some bonding activity for the swim club, as if they didn’t already see one another every day. Either that, or Rei just wanted company to watch the new documentary he’d checked out from the library.

On the train ride home Haru stared out the window, even though it was long past nightfall and there wasn’t much to see. Beside him, Makoto cleared his throat. “Is everything okay, Haru?”

It had been a week. It felt like longer.

“Rin broke up with me,” he said.

There was little consolation Makoto could provide on public transportation, and maybe it was better that way. He put an arm around Haru’s shoulders—much like Rin always had—and squeezed him into a side hug.

“He’ll come around,” Makoto replied. For the first time in a week, Haru felt like he would smile.

When he got home, after a long hug from Makoto, Haru stood before his desk and stared at the team photo. Rin was so happy. Haru wanted to make him even happier.

“He’ll come around,” he said resolutely.

 _Is this about sex?_ Haru had asked, right before they'd gotten together. In retrospect, maybe the question was a little crude. But he had to know—Haru had thought about it. A lot. He needed to know if Rin did, too, if he overlooked the inevitable pain if it meant they could be bound together. Haru flopped to the bed, imagining Rin there. He touched the pillow like it were Rin's face, brushing the fabric like he was sweeping away an imaginary strand of hair.

"Rin," he whispered, like he was a dark secret, "I . . ."

But the Rin in his mind didn't let him say it. He turned onto his back, the phantom of a kiss on his lips and a hand gliding down his torso. His hand. Rin's.

"Rin . . ." It was Rin toying at his belt buckle, his hand slipping into his trunks. It was Rin who made him moan, arching his back off the mattress. It could only be Rin—no one else had ever sparked these feelings in Haru, made him touch himself in places that had never been touched.

Sex would feel really good with Rin.

 

* * *

 

Haru almost didn’t message him on Saturday. Not that he’d forgotten—he kept himself busy, going to pool and then cleaning the house, making sure there wasn’t a speck of dust to be found. He went to the market, buying fish that wasn’t mackerel. When he returned home, he did the homework he usually put off until Sunday night.

 

_Fr: Haru_

_Saturday, 3:30 p.m. Come over?_

 

_Fr: Rin_

_Saturday, 3:31 p.m. Thought you forgot about me._

 

_Fr: Haru_

_Saturday, 3:31 p.m. I would never do that._

 

_Fr: Rin_

_Saturday, 3:32 p.m. Busy now?_

 

Haru left the front door unlocked. He sat in the living room clutching a glass of water, the scene far too familiar. Rin rang the doorbell, but didn’t wait for Haru to answer. He listened to Rin kick off his shoes—he always kicked them at the wall instead of lining them up neatly—and the short walk from the foyer to the living room wasn’t long enough.

“Hey.” Rin smiled at the glass of water at his assigned seat. He took a sip as soon as he sat.

Haru watched him drink. He noticed how he gripped the glass too hard, then lowered it back to the table slowly, like he was trying to keep steady. He offered a weak smile, which could have been interpreted as an apology.

“Do you trust me?” Haru asked, no hesitation, no pretext.

Rin glanced down at his water. “You know I do, Haru.”

“Then close your eyes.”

He hesitated, but still followed command. Haru crawled over to kneel behind him, setting his hands on Rin’s shoulders. “Tell me if you get uncomfortable. Okay?”

Rin shivered slightly. “Okay.”

Haru gently held Rin’s shoulders, not doing anything at first. It was a long time coming, but eventually the tension in his shoulders released. Then, Haru allowed himself to move. He massaged his way down Rin’s arms, resting at the crook of his elbows. He slid farther down to his hands, which lay shaking on his knees. When Haru squeezed his hands, Rin offered a light squeeze back.

Haru, too, closed his eyes, the better to focus on all of him, inhaling the scent of Rin’s shampoo as he buried his nose in his hair. It was something smoky and masculine, which surprised him. It didn’t smell like Rin. He moved his hands to the zipper of Rin’s jacket, which was half-open. Rin sucked in a breath when his hands touched his stomach.

Haru paused, his fingertips barely grazing Rin’s T-shirt. But Rin nodded in silent approval.

He crossed his arms over Rin’s stomach, feeling for the opposite hipbone. He waited a beat, ensuring that Rin was still steadily breathing, then trailed his hands upward: over his chest and his clavicle, linking his arms under Rin’s to hug him.

“Can I ask what you’re doing?” Rin said.

Haru rested his cheek between Rin’s shoulder blades. “Does it feel weird?”

Rin’s back arched in a deep sigh, his pulse beating against Haru’s cheek. “No. It feels good.”

“Sit back a little.”

Rin complied, still closing his eyes, as Haru moved around to study his face. He loved Rin’s face—his sharp jawline, the angle of his nose. He loved his eyes, the way the corners disappeared beneath his fringe, and the way that wisp of hair always brushed his nose. Haru tucked the hair behind his ear, then lightly pressed his lips to Rin’s cheek.

Rin released an audible breath, like he’d been holding it. He sat unresponsive as Haru’s lips lingered against his skin, his breath warm on Rin’s cheek. Haru kissed him again, unable to resist. His skin was so warm. And now so pink, the flush crawling from his neck to his hairline.

“I really like you, Haru.”

Haru brushed a fingertip against his lips, mildly surprised when Rin lightly kissed it. “I know.”

He slung a leg over Rin and sat on his thighs, but his legs were slightly parted and Haru plopped to the floor between them. He inched closer and propped his feet behind Rin, trapping him between his thighs.

Thank the gods, Rin moved first. Haru was impressed that his eyes were still closed as he reached around Haru's back, folding him into a loose embrace. Haru used to care that he was slightly shorter but now, if he slouched just a little, he could tuck his head beneath Rin's chin. So he did.

He loved to feel Rin breathing. It was an automatic movement yet so personal, something one forgets until his chest seizes in pain. But he listened to Rin breathing, felt it pulse under his shirt. He unzipped Rin's jacket the rest of the way, sliding his arms between the soft fabric of his jacket and T-shirt. Rin began to rub his back.

"Are your eyes still closed?"

"Yeah."

"Are you lying?"

"No."

But he felt the gentleness of Rin’s touch, working off feeling rather than seeing. The slow up-and-down of his hand on his back. The slight downward tilt of his head, lips resting on Haru’s hair but not quite a kiss.

“Are you gonna tell me why my eyes are closed?”

Rin’s breath ruffled his hair when he spoke. It made Haru smile. “Do you think this would feel different if I were a girl?”

Rin’s hand snaked down Haru’s side, then back up, his thumb almost catching his nipple. “Well, you’d have”—He vaguely gestured to Haru’s flat chest—“you know.”

Haru sighed. _“Rin.”_

He couldn't know all that was running through Rin's head. He didn't know the extent of the hatred, the internalized shame of self. Haru had seen enough, though, when they'd stood outside, Rin fumbling over his breakup. He hadn't wanted to. He'd been so pained, running away before Haru could even discuss it. He'd wanted to. ( _Is it because of me?_ ) But—

Rin hugged him again and, even though Haru couldn’t see, knew he’d opened his eyes. He rested his chin atop Haru’s head. “Why do people hate me?”

Haru tried to look up, but he was trapped in Rin’s embrace. “What?”

“Why do they care who I like?”

Haru sat up to face him, their arms linked around the other’s waist. Rin didn’t meet his eyes at first, but he wasn’t exactly avoiding him—he looked Haru up and down, studying his masculine body. He looked at Haru’s arms, which disappeared around his back. Haru slipped a hand beneath his T-shirt, just resting on the curve of his back, and a smile twitched at the corner of Rin’s lips.

“Want to try again?” Haru asked.

Rin finally met his eyes. His face bared so many emotions that Haru couldn’t begin to name. All knotted together, needing him to uncoil and interpret them. Rin swallowed hard. “W-Will you kiss me like you did at the pool?”

Haru pursed his lips. “It’s not the same without the pool.”

Finally, he laughed. “You’re such an idiot.”

Rin lips tasted sweeter than he remembered, even without the pool. Maybe it was better—no water between them, nothing separating their bodies. Rin pulled him closer, and Haru was glad he wasn’t a girl—how could he get this close to Rin if he had boobs, anyway?

Rin still smiled when they broke apart. “I want to try again.”

 

Their second date was to the movies. Haru bought the tickets, insisting that Rin would pay the next time. It was worth the money to see Rin’s smile, that small hope for a “next time.” They stood close without touching as Haru put his change back into his wallet, then walked to theatre four. They learned that they both hated sitting up close, settling into seats near the back instead. But not _all_ the way in the back, where couples only sat when they wanted to make out instead. It was an unspoken agreement.

 _Anyway_ , Haru thought, _they don’t have an empty house to go back to after._

Haru was proud to have thought of the movies. They could share an armrest without it looking like anything. And when the lights went down, he took Rin’s hand. Rin didn’t let go, not for a second. Even when their hands began to sweat, and Haru felt a cramp in his wrist, he held on. He tried to focus on the film, but was hyperaware of Rin’s thumb tracing circles on his skin. During a scene change, when nothing was happening yet on-screen, Rin leaned over.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he said in English. It was one of few English phrases Haru understood without need of translation.

Haru lowered his head, but it wasn’t enough to hide the smile. Even in the dark.

Afterward, they walked the mall. Haru had a destination in mind that he refused to share, despite Rin’s pestering. When he strode through the doors of a perfume store—a distinctly feminine, pink-adorned store—it was satisfying to see the deep crease of confusion between Rin’s eyebrows.

“Shopping for yourself?” Rin asked, touching a plastic pink rose on a display.

“No. For you.”

Rin nearly cracked a pink petal off the flower. “Huh?”

Haru moved through the store, a little uncertain. _It’s not like I shop in places like these_ , he thought. But he found what he was looking for. Yet another pink display, tucked near the back, adorned with fake cherry blossom sprigs. “I don’t like your shampoo,” he said, picking up a lotion bottle marked as "display." Rin stiffened when Haru took his hand and squirted a drop on the back. “You need something more _you_.”

“I’m not buying this!” he hissed. Rin looked around, but no one was paying them any attention. Maybe they were just clueless guys shopping for a sister, a mother, a girlfriend, randomly sniffing at the scented lotions and wondering if she would like it.

He rubbed the drop of lotion into the back of Rin's hand, massaging until it was fully absorbed. Rin stared at it—the back of his hand now had a light shimmer—and glared at Haru as he brought it to his nose.

“It’s . . . pretty nice,” Rin admitted. “But I’m not wearing this stuff. My hand is _glittering_.”

Haru smirked as he picked up a shampoo bottle—pink, like everything else in the store, the cherry blossoms on the bottle itself shimmering under the light.

“Haru, I live in a dorm. Communal showers.” But he still took the bottle from Haru, then glanced around before unscrewing the cap. It smelled of cherries and spring, of childhood days by the pool, and of . . . Rin.

Haru bought the shampoo for him, but even he admitted the sparkly lotion was _too_ gay. He carried the rose-adorned bag for him through the mall and onto the train, returning to his house. Rin eyed the bag, which seemed too heavy for just a bottle of shampoo, but Haru held it to his chest and didn’t allow him to peek.

“Looks like you’re shopping for your girlfriend,” Rin said.

Haru smirked. “I am.”

Rin prodded him in the ribs.

When they returned to the house Rin reached for the bag, grunting in frustration when Haru still refused to hand it over. He continued to hug the bag, even when Rin reached for the handles. “Do you want to take a bath?” Haru asked.

Rin quickly stepped back. “Eh?!”

“You can wear one of my swimsuits,” he added.

Rin stumbled backward, dramatically clawing at his chest as he backed against the wall. Haru stared at him blankly, unamused. “Haruka Nanase is sharing his swimsuits with me,” he cried. “You must really be in—”

“Shut up and draw the bath,” he interrupted. “I’ll get the suits.”

He knew that his swimsuit would be slightly too snug on Rin, so he gave him an old practice one. Rin didn’t verbally complain, but he shifted around and adjusted it more than necessary. Finally, Haru unpacked the bag, then unscrewed a bottle of bubble bath.

“You are _so_ gay,” Rin said, grinning as Haru poured the thick, pink liquid over the stream of water.

The bathroom was infused with the scent of cherry blossoms, and it mattered not that they were wearing swimsuits—once they dipped beneath the bubbles, they were completely hidden from view. Haru thought that maybe he'd used too much.

They sat facing each other in the water, repositioning their bodies and their legs. Haru thought he'd just kicked the underside of Rin's thigh, unsure how his leg even got over there.

“Not _there_ ,” Haru said, pushing Rin’s foot away from his groin.

“I didn’t know it was that close!”

“Where did you _think_ you were putting it?!”

Rin shifted again, spilling soapy water onto the floor. He slung the leg over the lip of the tub, extending it to show off his hairy, bubbly calf. “I feel naked,” he said, snapping the jammers around his thigh.

“They suit you,” Haru replied.

“They do not!”

Haru grabbed onto his leg before he could slip it back into the water. “Body hair looks really weird on you.”

“Shut up! You don’t shave at all.”

But Rin kept his leg propped up and Haru mindlessly stroked it, feeling the slick skin and the soft hair. He kissed Rin’s ankle, the closest part of his body that wasn’t the foot. When Haru looked back up Rin had that smile on, the fondness radiating through his bubble-adorned face.

“Guess I should tell my mom,” Rin said, massaging Haru’s calf beneath the water.

A shiver went up his spine. “Really?”

“Yeah . . . won’t you tell _your_ parents?”

Haru looked away. He stared at Rin’s foot, at the wiggling toes, at the ankle as he mindlessly stroked it. “I guess so.”

Rin didn't pry. He didn't have to. Instead he scooped bubbles into his cupped hands, then blew over them so they withered and splattered Haru's face. Haru inched closer, feeling his own jammers on Rin's hip, then leaned in to kiss his lips. Rin's bubble-coated hands touched his face and his hair. He dropped his leg back into the tub, around Haru's back, and Haru didn't break the kiss even when Rin's heel dug into the base of his spine. Instead, he kicked him back and kissed him harder.

 

* * *

 

“Ma . . . there’s something I’ve gotta tell you.”

Rin stood fidgeting in the living room, feeling like his mother's reading light was pointed at him, not the book in her hands. Already he began to sweat, rubbing the back of his neck more to wipe it away then out of nervous habit. His mother looked up from the couch, peering over the edge of her reading glasses. “What is it?”

Rin waited as she removed her glasses. She slowly folded them into their case, then set her book down on the the side table. _It’s just Mom_ , he thought, as she pushed a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. “I- I’m seeing someone.”

She smiled. It was so wide, so _happy_ , and Rin only hoped it would stay that way when he was finished. “ _So_ , who is it?”

He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Well, uh, it’s a guy, Mom.”

She was still smiling. She almost looked relieved, with the way she sat back into the couch, her arms folded across her chest. “Does he make you happy?”

Rin had to look away. Only because he’d started to smile, too. “Yeah . . . yeah, he does.” He sat on the couch and welcomed her embrace, so used to being smothered by her bosom that he didn’t even care. She pushed the hair back from his face, like she had when he was a kid, to kiss his forehead. “You’re saying you don’t care that I’m . . . gay?”

He still wasn’t used to the word. He’d thrown it around a few times when he was with Haru, just to test it out. It was more teasing Haru, and he didn’t seem to care because . . . it was true. They _were_. It was okay, being with Haru. He’d always had that effect on Rin. Haru made it okay.

Despite her efforts, his mother failed to hold back a laugh. “Honey, you act like this is a big surprise.”

Rin pushed back, scrambling to sit up. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?!”

But she ignored the question, quickly going on to say, “Can I guess? Is it Nanase?”

He should’ve been a _little_ bit surprised. He felt Haru’s blind touches, the hand-holding during the movie, the bubble bath. He thought of the seafood restaurant and the kiss in the pool. He smelled the cherry blossom lotion off his hand; it still shimmered slightly when he tilted it under the light. He broke into a wide smile. He didn’t want speak lest he break down in front of his mother, so he vigorously nodded.

She cried in his stead, squealing as she enveloped him into her arms. “I’m so happy,” she whispered. Rin snuggled against her as she kissed his cherry blossom–scented hair. “You’ve always loved him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([Here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/91457420518) on tumblr.)


End file.
